


Soldier's Angel

by CanineWitchcraft



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13215660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanineWitchcraft/pseuds/CanineWitchcraft
Summary: Not everyone can be saved. The number of dead pile up after a while. Something has to break. Perhaps that something is Angela.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't write this at work....
> 
> This entire fic is inspired by the Stevie Nicks song Soldier's Angel. Please go listen to it. It's beautiful.

Everyone has their breaking point.

 

“Moira?” Commander Morrison said after knocking on the door to her office.

 

She looked up at him for a short moment. He was wear camo. There were a few cuts and scrapes on his face and hands. Upon closer inspection of his clothing, she could see blood staining cloth. She gave him a quick nod before disregarding him and going back to her work. 

 

He took the small acknowledgment as an invitation and stepped through the doorway. “It’s about Angela.” He continued, “She nee-”

 

Moira’s full focus immediately returned to him in a whirl. “What happened?” There was no hiding the panic in her voice. Her pupils dilated as adrenaline began to rush into her bloodstream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this work. Not sorry.  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, I still can't believe I wrote this at work. Gotta love working the night sift. *Dies a little inside*

No one is immune to the physical and emotional toll. 

 

Angela sat on the cold metal bench in the helicarrier. Her elbows resting on her knees. Moira could see she had something in her hands. The blonde stared past the object at the floor.  _ Dissociating,  _ Moira thought as she approached the woman. 

 

“Aingeal.” She called as she kneeled in front of the unfocused blonde. “Aingeal?” She reached out with long fingers and hesitated. “May I touch you?” The blonde didn’t look at her. Her eyes still staring past her. After a few quiet seconds Angela nodded. Moira reached forward with one hand and cupped Angela’s hand, running her thumb in a soothing forward and back motion on the blonde’s hand. 

 

The tender sensation cause Angela to look down at Moira’s hand. She stared at it for a long moment before her eyes floated up and met with Moira’s blue eyes as they stare back at her. The two women sat there for quite a while. Moira’s thumb continuing it’s gentle motion. Angela said nothing. 

 

After a very long minute, Moira began looking the blonde’s body over for wounds. She was caked in mud and dried blood, but the redhead found a large blood stain on her side that was still damp. Her eye flicked back up to Angela’s. “Are you hurt?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Her voice was small. Defeated. 

 

“May I check?” Another small nod. 

 

Moira pulled her shirt up. A small caliber bullet hole oozed beneath the fabric.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this! I will probably write the last chapter to this tomorrow...oh...wait...I mean, tonight at work. 
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos if you like it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit emotional when I wrote this. So, if it's crap, my apologies.

Angela sat on the table in Moira’s lab as she cleaned out her wound. Her arm resting on Moira’s head as the redhead worked on her. She still held the small object in her hand. Moira hadn’t been able to get a good look at it and had no clue what it was. But that was lower on the list of priorities at the moment.

 

“The Commander said you wouldn’t let wouldn’t let anyone look you over?” Moira said, her voice low and gentle as she worked, not taking her eyes off the Angela’s damaged skin.

 

Angela didn’t say anything. She stared down at Moira. Watching as she worked on her.

 

Once Moira finished cleaning with the Chlorhex scrub, she applied some lidocaine and began poking into the small hole for the bullet. Angela winced at the subtle discomfort of the hemostats as they grabbed for the bullet under her flesh.  

 

“I’m done, Aingeal.” Moira said, taking the other woman’s arm from the top of her head and kissed her knuckles.

 

“I’m not an angel.”

 

Moira tilted her head to the left, giving her soft eyes as she rubbed soothing circles into Angela’s hand.

 

“Angel of death, perhaps.”

 

“Angela-”

 

“Everyone died, Moira. I failed them.”

 

Moira shook her head, “You cannot save everyone.”  

 

Angela’s hand tightened around the object, drawing Moira’s attention to it. She reached her hand towards it, stretching her fingers out underneath the object in Angela’s hand. The tips of fingers brushed against her wrist. “Did it belong to one of the soldiers?”

 

The blonde’s eyes brimmed with tears. She closed them. Fighting back the wave of emotions the question brought up. She sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. Angela flipped the item over in her hand and held it in her palm as the image of a young woman holding up her thumb, index and pinky finger appeared.

 

As soon as Moira saw the imagine she recognized the woman. She had been living on the base for the last three months. Moira had seen her in the mess hall and around base. She’d never talked to her. All she knew about the woman was that she was American. She didn't even know her name.

 

“She asked me to send it to her mom.” Angela choked out. She fought hard, but her walls broke. A broken sob shook her body as tears slipped down her cheeks.

 

Moira hesitated. Slowly, with unsteady arms, she wrapped herself around the blonde. Angela buried her face in Moira’s chest and wrapped her arms around the slender woman, pulling her as close to her body as she could.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aingeal is Angel in Irish. 
> 
> I've noticed a lot of people that write Moicy have Moira call Angela Angel and I always thought it odd that no one thought she'd call her Angel in her native tongue. 
> 
> The hand signal that is described is American Sign Language for I Love You. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed. If you all would like more please comment. I'll see how long I can keep this going.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
